


From the Ashes

by Tired_College_Student_Writing



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Burned at the stake, Gen, Merlin Dies (Merlin), Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Season/Series 04, Uther Pendragon Lives (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24140155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tired_College_Student_Writing/pseuds/Tired_College_Student_Writing
Summary: It wasn't supposed to end like this.Merlin was supposed to protect Arthur until he united all of Albion, not be burned at the stake by his sadistic father.He was supposed to serve him until the day both men died.How did it end up like this?
Relationships: Arthur Pendragon & Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Elyan & Merlin (Merlin), Gaius & Merlin (Merlin), Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Gwen & Merlin (Merlin), Lancelot & Merlin (Merlin), Leon & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Percival (Merlin)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 66





	From the Ashes

The twisted look on his father’s face just made his stomach swoop. 

Arthur was no stranger to executions of magic users. They were almost routine now, and he couldn’t remember a time more than two months passed in between a pyre being lit. As he grew older he felt more numb watching the events than anything else, even if before and after his heart clenched in sorrow. 

This time, however, numbness refused to take him. How could it when Merlin was being led to the stake? 

The goofy moronic servant had gotten close to Arthur over the last four years, always standing by him, always lending an ear when he needed it, never afraid to offer up a quip or insult when the royal needed to be brought back to reality. It wasn’t always a welcomed truth but Arthur found he grew fond of the unhesitant words of rebuttal and clumsy actions of the other man. 

He may not always be the nicest to Merlin, berating him and throwing things at him when he’s mad but he never wanted him dead. Let alone burned. 

But Merlin had magic, it was undeniable the way his eyes had lit up a blazing soul-piercing gold as the assassin was pulled from the rafters after nearly taking Arthur’s head off. 

Anyone with eyes could see that he had only been protecting his prince, but as the gold faded Arthur could see his servant pale and begin to shake as he realized what he had just done, trying to sputter out apologies even as Uther yelled for the guards to seize Merlin. 

There was no exception to the ban on Magic after all, not even for saving the crowned prince. 

He was let frozen as Merlin begged not to be taken, vows that he only ever used his magic to help Camelot, to help Arthur, how he had been born with the spark, using magic before he could even speak, how he had no choice in the art, begging for Arthur to understand, to not hate him. 

He struggled to remain in the throne room, to beg at Arthur’s feet, but he didn’t attempt to escape from the guards hold, didn’t attempt to flee. 

He didn’t want to be saved, Arthur realized later, as he threw up near the stables. The only thing Merlin had wanted was for Arthur not to hate him. 

Arthur couldn’t even give him that much as the guards caught him trying to sneak down to the cells that night. His father had been worried he had been enchanted, and now that Arthur had done what his father would only expect from an enchanted prince. He had been confined to his rooms until the execution. 

He heard from a haunted-looking Leon who was ordered to stand guard on the Prince that Gwaine had been arrested for attempting to break Merlin out of the cells along with Lancelot. Eylan and Percival visited Arthur, uncertainty weaving through their words and movements. 

Magic was hated by them all for its corrupting quality, they had seen how Morgona had been twisted so easily, but Merlin was… Merlin. He was The Round Table’s younger brother, a kind and loving friend to all. They protected him with a ferocity that only was matched in the intensity that they teased him with. He, in turn, treated the knights as equals, caring for them passed what was appropriate for a servant to do, but he just rolled his eyes at them with a sarcastic “Of course, sir knight,” before returning to his normal behavior. 

But they had seen the good in Magic, hadn’t they? The light that had guided Arthur when Merlin was poisoned, Merlin’s friend Will saving them all from the invaders, and recently Dragoon the Great had healed Uther, pulling him back from the brink of death, though he had almost killed him before finding the charm placed on him that changed healing energy into harm. Arthur had been relieved each time, even when Uther had screamed for the guards the moment he opened his eyes. 

Gaius also visited, grief and sorrow making the old physician look frail. Arthur accepted his gruff words about not knowing his ward had been practicing magic under his nose, even though he knew from the way his eyes teared up and his hands shook that he was lying. He was already losing his best friend, he wasn’t risking losing Gaius as well. 

Now here he stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard next to his father, he wished he had tried harder to get to Merlin. He was the only member of the Round Table here, the only one to see the hollow look on Merlin’s face. He was moving stiffly as if a puppet being pulled along against its will. Even from where he stood Arthur could see the dried tear tracks on his face and the red around his eyes. 

  
  


He felt like he couldn’t breathe as his father’s speech bounced around the silent crowd, not hearing a word of it as the fire was lit. He wanted to yell at Merlin to fight, to use his magic to break free and run, but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. His father had warned him harshly as he pulled him to the balcony that if he tried calling out to Merlin, to encourage him to escape, that Uther would have the man tortured before being burned. Arthur refused to cause his friend any more pain. 

  
  


Merlin didn’t move as the fire licked higher, didn’t even cough as the smoke overtook his form. Arthur could tell that he was burning, his best friend was burning, but he was as lifeless as a doll, but Arthur knew he wasn’t dead yet. It took at least an hour before the fire would die down and Uther would allow for the guards to put out the fire, certain the sorcerer was dead. At thirty minutes the cries were usually the loudest, but still nothing from Merlin. 

  
  


There was sudden movement as they neared the hour mark, and through the haze, Arthur had let himself fall into he saw his father’s eyes narrow. 

  
  


A crack sounded from the pyre and the crowd gasped as lightning struck the center of the fire. The intensity of the blast jarred Arthur to the very bone as the castle shook around him, knocking him to his knees. By the time he scrambled to his feet the fire had been extinguished, faster than should be possible by ordinary means. 

In the center of the smoldering remains was Merlin, clothes singed badly and ash covering his skin but he was there and seemed unharmed, and he didn't quite fight back relieved laughter. Suddenly Merlin’s face snaps up to him and his father, revealing the blazing golden eyes that were burned into his memory. The sorcerer's face was unnaturally blank as Uther barked to the guards to seize him. 

They didn’t get the option as Merlin lifted into the air without a word, floating elegantly to land on the railing of the balcony, looming over the Pendragons with an unrivaled authority Arthur never would have paired with Merlin but seemed so natural. 

“What sort of trick is this, Sorcerer?” Uther barked, fury rolling off of him in waves. 

“Oh Uther,” Merlin sighed, words echoing unnaturally through the courtyard, “You truly don’t see how ignorant you’ve become of Magic, and how hypocritical.” 

“Merlin was no Sorcerer,” Merlin told them, “He was a Warlock. you know the difference, Uther, but for your son’s benefit, I will explain. Warlocks are blessed with their gifts from birth and they develop somewhere between their early teens and twenty years old as Morgana did, but Merlin was special, he’s been using magic since the moment he drew his first breath. No, that it mattered, you had him burned for something he couldn’t control any more then you could decide what color your hair is. ”

Arthur felt his heart squeeze, “Why are you referring to yourself like that Merlin?” 

The golden gaze turned to him, and almost seemed to soften as it spoke the words that sent ice through his veins, “I’m sorry Arthur, but Merlin is dead.”

Uther raised a brow, “Who are you then?” 

“I am a being of legend,” Mer-The thing wearing Merlin’s skin explained, “Magic coursed through Merlin since the moment he was conceived, been at his disposal since he drew his first breath, using magic for him was instinctual as breathing and blinking is for you. His destiny laid out a path that magic had carved for him, he was to be the most powerful magic user that ever was. I was his magic, the connection he shared with the Old Religion that would allow him to protect the Once and Future King. I was meant to just be an aspect of him, but now that he’s gone Magic refuses to let the Once and Future King remain unprotected before his destiny can be fulfilled. So I have been awoken, and will remain at Arthur’s side until the day comes that he no longer needs a protector, or until Magic can convince Merlin to return from Avalon.” 

“I’ll have you put to death if you get near my son,” 

The being let out an ungodly laugh that sent fear down the spines of those gathered.

“Poor Poor Uther,” It cried, edging on pity, “You never learned your lesson. You can kill as many magic users as you wish, you can hunt them for sport, but you can’t rid the world of Magic, and you can’t avenge your wife because it’s not Magic’s fault that you did not heed the warnings.” 

Arthur sucked in a startled breath, eyes flying to his father, “Morgause spoke the truth. You used magic so that I could be born, even though you were warned that someone must die.” 

“Yes,” The being confirmed, “Your father ignored the warnings about how balance must be kept, he believed that the one that died would be a peasant or knight, someone with whose life he saw as forfeit compared to a prince’s. Only when it was Ygraine did he realize the true nature of what he asked, and chose to blame Magic and Nimih instead of his own choices. The only thing the vision lied to you about is that your Mother would never have blamed Uther for her death, nor would she have wanted for you to slay him in vengeance.” 

“Why lie?” Arthur whispered, fists clenching, “Why not tell me the truth?” 

“Because Merlin did not want to see you hurt in such a way,” The being explained, “He cared for you enough that he would allow your hatred of magic to remain so that you would not slay your own father in cold blood. It’s why Merlin broke the enchantment between your father and the troll, why he had Excalibur made, why he took the form of Dragoon and healed your father. It is also the reason I will not lay him to rest myself, even should you request it. Even so, he can not harm nor kill me.” 

“Don’t be so cocky,” Uther seethed. 

“Against you, Uther?” The being said, face blank as a slate, but full of promises, “It’s not being cocky, it’s stating fact.” 

The being stepped down to the balcony and walked through the door behind them, not even flinching as Uther pulled his sword and tried to stab it through the being. The sword didn’t even make it close to it as a golden shield appeared and shattered the steel blade like it was an icicle. 

Arthur took off after ignoring the calls from his father. He caught up to it after it had run into Percival outside Arthur’s chambers. The bear of a man was trembling, white as a sheet, staring at the golden-eyed being with fear that seemed more befitting a young maiden. Arthur would have found it comical if it had been any other circumstance, but right now he just felt empathy. 

“Merlin…” The man spoke, “You’ve…” 

“Merlin is dead,” Arthur spoke up before the being could, “This isn’t Merlin.” 

The knight stared at him as if he had grown three heads, “But sire, it’s clearly-”

“Gather the Table, Sir Percival,” Arthur ordered, voice low and harsh, “I- We’ll explain once we have everyone. Break Lancelot and Gwaine out of jail if you have to, just get everyone here as soon as you can.” 

The knight sprinted off with speed uncharacteristic of the large knight. 

“What should I call you?” Arthur asked once the door shut behind him, “If you’re not Merlin if you’re simply his magic or whatever else you are…” 

The being gazed at him in confusion, his eternal golden eyes, “I suppose Emrys is the best name for me. It was the name the druids created for the protector of the Once and Future King.” 

“Alright, Emrys then. You’ll need to explain more about that Once and Future King business once the others arrive.”

“Of course, Sire.”

Arthur felt odd stripping from his court clothing with the be- Emrys simply stood like a statue by the bed, seeming to not even breathe, but he had a feeling that this was going to be a long talk. 

The door crashed open unexpectedly before Arthur could finish changing, a sober and pissed off looking Gwaine, followed closely by the other knights, Percival hanging back, eyes vacant with fear. Gwen and Gaius were hanging near the back, tear streaks still evident on their faces. 

Gwaine let out a sob as he saw Emrys standing there, crossing the room instantly to pull the being into a tight hug, “Thank the gods! How did you manage to escape?” 

“I am not Merlin,” 

Gwaine pulled back and stared at the being in confusion, “What do you-”   
  


“Gwaine,” Arthur said as he pulled on his shirt, “We all need to sit down while Emrys and I explain… explain what happened at Merlin’s execution.” 

Leon let out a slight gasp looking to the being for the first time since he entered the room, and Gauis looked like he might be sick, but no one could muster up a word as they tensely circled the room. 

Arthur turned to the still statue-like Emrys, “Tell them everything you told my father and I at the execution site.” 

The being didn’t move even as Gwaine pulled back uncertainty, didn’t even seem to acknowledge the others in the room as they slowly formed a circle around the room, but after being prompted he quickly started to recount the events of the morning. Arthur wasn’t sure listening to the emotionless factual retelling was better or worse than the real events. Everything was so... detached from Emrys as if the being could care less about Merlin's death outside of what it meant for it existing. A completely blank expression and a dull monotone didn't fit Merlin's face and voice, least of all when telling them about how the licking flames and suffocating smoke had driven the very essence of the man they all called a friend from his body, leaving a corpse behind before magic decided to create its own consciousness to stand-in. 

“So Emrys,” Gwaine pushed, anger boiling just below the surface, “Why don’t you tell us everything Merlin did for Camelot? All the things that he did for Arthur that the princess couldn’t even be bothered to save him for?” 

“Oh really?” Arthur snapped, “You want to say I did nothing? I argued and fought with my father but he was convinced the only reason I would still care for a magic user is that he enchanted me and reassured me that once Arthur was dead I would see reason. Then I couldn’t even speak up at the execution because my father warned me that if I even spoke a single word before the hour was up that he would burn all of Merlin’s friends. After all, clearly, one of them was also a magic-user and keeping the enchantment up! I was already losing my best friend, I didn’t want to lose any of you as well!” 

“Stop this now,” Gauis cried, looking worn and tired, “None of this fighting is going to bring back Merlin, we’ve all failed him!”

The knights fell silent, frustration and sorrow oozing from all as they gazed around the room at each other, daring someone to speak. 

“Odd,” Emrys said after a long moment, head cocking slightly to the side, the first real movement he made since entering the room.

“What?” Arthur snapped, glaring at the golden eyes that should be blue. Emrys simply looked between the knights before gazing back at Arthur.

“You really do care for him," Emrys stated with the barest hint of wonderment in his voice that caused Arthur's heart to wither, "even though Merlin left this plane believing that you despised him. Even Magic didn’t account for all of the knights siding with Merlin when Uther was still alive. Gauis, Lancelot, and Gwen were always going to stand by him but the rest of you...You all are very odd.” 


End file.
